


Contemplating Cutting the White Lotuses

by secundany



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Akeshu is the main pairing, Alternate Universe - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion, Background Relationships, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, I’m sorry to those I’ve betrayed, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Personalities are also adjusted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secundany/pseuds/secundany
Summary: Goro only wanted to erase Ren as Ren had erased him, but how can you simply erase the man you once loved without there being consequences?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nafnaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nafnaf/gifts).



> hi i'm dany and this is my first fanfiction bc I'm not really a fandom person? i wrote this au bc I love this movie and also my twin (nafnaf) wanted me to write this so I'm writing it! as I said this is my first fic, for persona 5 furthermore, and I'm not an akeshu person so go easy on me lmao.
> 
> reminder, this is an au where the events play out similarly to the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. events and some dialogue are basically the same/similar. I don't require that you've watched the movie! warning, though, the timeline gets all messed up in both the movie and this fic, so I understand if it gets a little confusing at first.
> 
> anyways, I hope you enjoy :)

On Valentine’s Day morning, Goro is waiting for his third train. He listlessly swings his suitcase and taps a rhythm with his feet, and grumbles under his breath at the pairs of cloying lovers nuzzling and greeting each other with their kisses and chocolates. It makes him wonder what Sae is doing for the holiday. Maybe she’s going out for sushi with her new boyfriend, like she used to do with him. Goro wonders if he should shoot her a call… Ah, but today is going to be a busy day, that’s for certain.

He doesn’t know what to think about the day. The sun burns bright and yet the morning is so cold, nipping at his flushed skin and tightening the air around him. He wonders what sort of nonsense his superiors will harry him into doing today in such dispiriting weather. The same old shit he always does, perhaps. Nothing he isn’t used to. All on Valentine’s Day too. Not that Goro should care.

And yet, in spite of this, Goro backs away from the platform instinctively, running in the opposite direction. He finds the Keikyu line bound for Miurakaigan and boards an empty car, settling into the seats with a huff. He doesn’t know why. He’s not an impulsive guy. Still, he supposes a little respite from routine wouldn’t hurt. He sets his suitcase on the spot next to him and closes his eyes.

There’s a notebook in his suitcase that he often forgets about. Out of boredom, Goro extracts it and leafs through the frayed pages. Some pages have been ripped out. When did he ever do that?

… Today is Valentine’s Day. Seems like there hasn’t been an entry in here in two years.

Where did those years go? Somewhere far, most likely. If you’re not careful, it gets away from you. That’s the sad truth to Goro’s stressful life, reflected almost perfectly in this notebook: unused, torn, indecipherable and frankly pointless. Just aimless writing. A vain hope to fill empty spaces.

But those years will slip from your grasp, and then it’s over, and you’re dead. And within a few years who even remembers you were here?

 

—

 

_“No one would care if I just… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Disappeared.”_

_Ren tucked Goro’s hair behind his ear and laughed.“Goro, you silly boy.”_

_Goro, scowling, tilted his chin back. “What?”_

_Ren kept his hand on Goro’s face, cupping his cheek affectionately. “_ I _would care.”_

 

—

 

In the winter, nobody goes to the beach. Do they? Probably not on a weekday. Goro is grateful, for he can pace the length of the shore alone. He traces a pattern into the damp sand with his finger and watches the waves wash over his feet, erasing the pattern completely. It’s such a simple sight, and yet so fascinating. He figures he can watch the waves for a few more minutes before finally getting hungry.

He woke up far too early today to even covet breakfast. Usually, at work, he’ll order small meals, middling ones but passable; today he feels like all he’ll need is the kick of coffee to stay awake for the rest of the day. In any case, he called in sick. No one should be expecting him for the entire holiday.

Somebody else is walking along the shore opposite from him. He’s a man with a mop of black hair and thick glasses, distinguishable only by the bright red bomber jacket he wears. Goro studies him inquisitively before quickly turning away. He’d always wanted to meet someone new, but he knows chances of that are slim, seeing as he’s incapable from making eye contact with anyone he doesn’t know.

As if to avoid this stranger, Goro finds shelter at a café where he grabs a coffee and hides out in a booth with his notebook. Coffee is just what he needed. He sips from the coffee, but decides it is much too bland for his liking. He thinks maybe he’s been somewhere with better coffee than this. Where was it?

He doesn’t dwell too long on it. That man from the beach enters the café out of the blue and a bell jingles in his wake, notifying the barista behind the counter. The two exchange in lively banter before the man receives a drink and thanks her, retreating to a seat in a distant corner, passing Goro a curious glance.

Goro watches him briefly and sips. He scrunches up his nose.

 

—

 

Somewhere near the beach is an abandoned beach house that was probably once owned by a couple of rich, snotty adults. Goro peeks inside through the dusty glass but moves on in apprehension.

 

—

 

At the train station, the man stares insistently at Goro, almost prodding him for acknowledgement.

Goro gives in and glances his way. The man, wearing a silly grin, waves enthusiastically at him. Goro just blushes and nods at him before concealing his embarrassment by burying his face in his book.

The train hisses to a stop in front of them and it is empty again. Goro situates himself in a remote spot while the man sits several rows down, lolling his head lazily as he slouches.

Goro, removing his gloves, takes out a pen and starts to scribble in his notebook as the train sets off. He supposes it’s only a distraction. The image is of a jester’s mask, draped in flowing ribbons.

With a sigh, he lowers the pen. He glances up and spots the other lone passenger across the train, that mysterious man from the beach. There are traces of sand in his hair, discernible even from a distance.

The man seems to sense Goro’s gaze and he reacts. Wearing a colloquial smile, he says, “Hi.”

Goro blinks quizzically. He wonders if that’s directed towards him.

“S— Sorry?” Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Goro sits up straighter.

“No need to apologize,” the man laughs. “I’m only saying hi.”

“... H-Hi.” At once Goro bows his head, pretending to continue doodling in his notebook.

Ignoring his obvious awkwardness, the man stands and sidles closer. “Mind if I sit here?” Though he doesn’t seem to want to wait for an answer and seats himself across from Goro anyway, asking further, “How far are you headed, hm?” (Oh no. He’s in trouble.)

“P— Pretty far.” Goro is frankly taken aback by the man’s gregariousness, but drawn to it all the same. “I plan on going to Setagaya. That’s— wh-where I live.”

“No kidding!” the man gasps. “So do I.”

“Ah… What are the odds?” Unsure of how to react to this, Goro just chuckles.

Silence fills the space in between them. The man slowly leans forward. “Have we met before?”

Goro, his eyes darting about the car, shakes his head warily. “I don’t believe so, I…”

“But you come from Setagaya, right? Have you ever got coffee at a place called Leblanc?”

The name faintly stirs a memory within Goro. “Yeah, that sound familiar.”

“That’s it, then!” the man exults. “I know you!”

“Then why don’t I know you? I would’ve remembered someone like you,” Goro argues.

“It could be my appearance.” The man’s grin falls. “I’m fairly average, aren’t I? Plain-looking.”

 

—

 

_“Oh no,” Goro said, “you’re very extraordinary.”_

 

—

 

The train car rattles and screeches. The man jolts out of his reclining position, readjusting himself to point his knees and his eyes towards Goro.

“My name is Ren, by the way.” He juts out a hand. “What’s yours?”

Goro accepts the hand. It’s clammy. “Goro.”

“Nice to meet you, Goro. Wouldn’t you say my name is pretty plain, too?”

“I— no.” Suddenly, Goro’s throat runs dry, and he coughs into his fist, coaxing the words out of his mouth: “It’s a very pretty name.” His ears grow hot to admit it. “‘Ren.’ It means lotus, I believe.”

Ren’s brow twitches as if this were new information to him, though he masks his emotions with a grin, airily crossing his legs and shrugging. “Oh, well, it’s still pretty boring to me. Besides, I don’t think a lotus flower has anything to do with my character. Lotuses represent purity, and I’m a dirty person.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Goro says, unsurely.

Now Ren’s expression grows stern. “Why would you? You barely know me.”

Ashamed, Goro feels his shoulders deflate. “Sorry. I was only being polite.”

“Don’t be and trust me,” Ren laughs. “I’m a mess and I admit it.”

 

—

 

_“Do you know what lotuses also symbolize?” Ren asked, as they admired the flowers floating idly in a pond in a different country._

_Goro chose to humor him. “What does it mean, hm?”_

_“‘Far from the one he loves.’”_

_They snuggled together, parting only for a moment._

 

—

 

Night and rain falls upon the city when they return.

“Ah, shit. Fucking shit!” Ren curses as he exits. “I didn’t bring an umbrella. Fuck!”

Goro stares steadily in his direction. “I did.”

“You knew it was going to rain?” In amused disbelief, Ren gapes at him.

The blush on Goro’s cheeks reddens deeper. “No. But I like to be prepared.” As silence overtakes them and the train breezes away from the station, Goro stutters, impulsively, “Where do you live?”

“What,” Ren says with a kittenish smirk, “are you going to stalk me?”

“I— I’m not a stalker!” Goro hunches his shoulders defensively. Ren, meanwhile, laughs.

“Oh, you’re just trying to be ‘polite,’ aren’t you? … Well, OK. I admit it. I like that about you.”

They gaze at each other for a few seconds before Ren lowers his gaze to the slippery floor. “Sangen-Jaya. That’s where I live. It isn’t that far from here. You can come with me.”

Goro, at last mustering up the courage to smile, sincerely, takes out his umbrella and holds it over their heads. It blooms.

 

—

 

_“Here’s one thing I like about the rain…”_

_“What?”_

_“When it falls…” Ren combed his fingers through Goro’s hair. “It makes your hair all limp like this, and you look like a shaggy wet dog.”_

_Goro whapped him. “I thought you were going to say something deep and meaningful!”_

_“Haha, what, like that isn’t deep and meaningful?”_

 

—

 

Ren’s apartment building is anything but glorious. A small building with four or five floors, cream walls on the inside and outside and an uninteresting lobby. Entering through the glass doors, Ren dries his feet on a welcome mat and says, “I know, not much, is it? Perfectly fitting.” He drags his foot one last time through the rug, slowly, before spinning around and beaming. “Well. Thanks for protecting me from the rain, Goro. You’re a sweetie.” And Goro, oddly, tastes nostalgia when he hears that, right where his tongue prods the inside of his cheek and where he struggles to formulate the words he wants to say as a parting.

“My pleasure.” Goro wonders for a second if his choice of words was inappropriate, but he doesn’t get to think too much on it before Ren blurts out something even stranger:

“Do you want to come inside?”

Amazed, Goro lowers his umbrella and stares at him. He stands for too long in the open for the rain to pour down over his head and drench him right down to his toes.

“Oh, come inside, you idiot, you’re going to get sick!” Without waiting, Ren yanks Goro into the building. Goro’s yelp of pain, however, is what deters Ren, and he releases Goro with a frown. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk. I just do things, you know? You don’t have to…”

“No,” Goro interrupts, immediately, “I will.”

Ren smiles. He retakes Goro’s wrist, leading him towards the staircase.

 

—

 

_It was a quirky apartment filled with bizarre art and memorabilia. This included but was not limited to glow-in-the-dark star stickers in the bedroom, a few naked Grecian busts made of plastic, oddly-shaped lamps, or a seemingly perpetually-running chocolate fountain in the kitchen. Its floors were almost always dusty, and sometimes the sliding doors caught and got jammed. On its balcony sat one or two lawn chairs and several dying potted plants that showed Ren’s capricious need to tend to something but lack of commitment to do so. Sometimes his indoor slippers were heavily feathered in black cat hair, the perpetrator of which would slink throughout the house quietly, its critical stare hot on Goro’s back._

_Sometimes the apartment would be a mess. But Goro wouldn’t mind. Because he loved him._

 

—

 

Ren has taken to humming a nursery rhyme as he pours a drink for the both of them while Goro sits stiffly, anxiously, on the couch, twiddling his thumbs and tapping his feet. Outside, the rain is relentless, certainly forestalling any plans of escape Goro might have in mind in case this goes awry. In any case, Ren shuffles out of the kitchen with two glasses filled with… some kind of dark-colored drink. Goro thanks him and sips it, but recoils the moment he realizes it’s alcoholic. Ren, on the other hand, is impervious to its taste.

“I know, it’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Ren laughs, most likely referring to his apartment. “I filled it up with all of the weird shit my friends would give me. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them and so here they live. But, it feels a little… emptier, though I can’t seem to place why. I mean, nothing here’s changed. And it’s crowded with stuff. But it feels empty. That make sense?”

Normally Goro wouldn’t be able to relate to such specific feelings but he does, he really does, and he nods shakily, setting down his glass. “Yes. Yes, it makes perfect sense.”

He waits for his discomfiture at this to fade before, out of curiosity, he points at a poster depicting the idol group, AKB48. “Are you a fan of J-pop?”

Ren snorts. “No. That was a gift from a friend.”

Now a superhero figurine. “And that?”

“Also a friend.”

Now a drawing in ink— a portrait of Ren himself, though it seems crude, traced, perhaps. This one makes Goro even more unsettled. “How about that? Did you draw that?”

“This?” Ren’s eyes widen. “Oh, no. My boyfriend drew that for me.”

Goro spits out his drink, but remembers he didn’t drink anything, and only sputters out saliva.

Ren bursts into laughter. “Sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t tell you. I’m gay. Surprised? Disappointed?”

“N-No, I…” Flushing red, Goro reaches for his drink and gulps.

When he sets the drink down, Ren has inched suspiciously close. He asks, “Do you have one? A lover, I mean. Doesn’t have to be a boyfriend, just…”

Frantically, Goro shakes his head. “I haven’t been dating in a while, I— I broke up with my girlfriend Sae two years ago. I don’t remember why. I guess it just didn’t work out. I suppose… she was much older than me, and one of my superiors at that, and I was still young. It couldn’t work.”

Ren falls silent. To ease the tension in the room, Goro nudges his ends towards a cross, a Christian cross, pinned on the wall over the mantle. “Are you religious?” he asks cautiously.

Ren’s eyes follow and he clarifies, “Also a gift. Why, are you religious?”

“Me? Oh, no.” Goro waves his hands frantically. “I couldn’t be…”

“Sorry,” Ren says, “I just assumed. You look like a serious guy with your suitcase and all that.”

Is that the kind of impression he gives off? Goro smiles wanly, almost ruefully. “I understand. But I don’t know if I could ever believe in that stuff— about sin and absolution and…”

“Well, why not? I think everyone deserves forgiveness, whether it’s from a god or not,” Ren says. “As long as we work for it, then shouldn’t we all be forgiven?”

Goro’s smile weakens and he picks up his clouded glass, thumbing the rim. “... I suppose so.”

Ren stands silently for a minute, downing his drink. His fingers fidget and his hair falls over his eyes when he looks down. Then something flashes across his eyes as he sets aside his glass and strides across the living room. “That’s right, I wanted to show you something.” He ferrets through a cluttered drawer before unearthing what appears to be a book— thick, paperback, the page corners yellowing.

“Come take a look at this,” he grunts as he plumps himself down uncomfortably close to Goro on the couch. He fans through the pages and a gust of musty air blows in their direction.

Effortlessly, Ren finds the page he was looking for and smacks a palm on it. “There.” Goro leans in hesitantly to see that this is a book detailing Hanakotoba— and the page depicts a lotus, along with a description of its meaning. One in particular causes a clench in Goro’s chest: “Far from the one he loves.”

“This is what we were talking about, right?” Ren asks.

“Yes.” Goro shudders, drawing back slightly. “About your name.”

Suddenly, Ren stands, dropping the book at his feet. “Yeah. Anyways, I’ve had that book for a long time, but I don’t like reading through it as much anymore. Are you a flower person, Goro?”

“Not necessarily,” Goro answers.

“Oh. Well what do you do for a living?”

“I work in… law enforcement,” he says, mincing his words. “It’s not much.”

Ren quirks his brow, wandering aimlessly about his apartment playing with things. “Sounds like ‘much’ to me. I mean, you must be doing all these exciting things all the time.”

Crestfallen, Goro’s frame wilts. “True. Though, I’d much rather be doing something else.”

“At least you’re not making coffee and curry every day,” Ren remarks, and at this moment his hands land on a coffee mug labeled, “I <3 TOKYO” to tap a rhythm on it with his fingernails. “I’ve been at Leblanc since I was in high school, and even then I wasn’t paid until I graduated. Still, it’s been enough to keep me afloat with rent. Hey, you should move in and help me pay, you must make a lot of money.”

Goro gawks at that and Ren snickers, saying, “Sorry. That was rude of me. Do you ever think of spending the rest of your life with someone you just met?”

“I— I don’t know,” Goro chokes out, growing increasingly warm in the face.

“Well, I do,” Ren says, and flops down next to Goro again. “I think I’m going to marry you.”

“Do you…?” At this rate, Goro might just overheat.

“Yeah. I know it. Morgana can move in with us.”

Goro tilts his head. “...?”

“My cat.”

“Ah…” When Goro looks down, he sees his sweaty handprint forming on the glass.

“You’d probably get tired of me, though. I’m not much. I’d bore you.”

“I doubt that,” Goro says.

“Like I said, though, you barely know me. Just being polite again?”

“I mean you seem like fun person,” Goro amends, ashamed.

“Well, I’m not. I’m usually quiet and awkward.”

Goro scrunches up his face. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really,” Ren insists. “But you’re right. Why am I so talkative around you? Oh, God,” he laughs, “my thoughts are running around all over the place. God, I’m nervous. Are you nervous, Goro?”

At last, Goro exhales a breath. “A little.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so excited. I rarely meet anyone new anymore.”

“Me neither,” Goro admits, his anxiety slowly ebbing away. “But, ah…”

Ren stares at him. “What?”

“Well,” Goro says, anxious again, “it almost doesn’t feel that way.”

“Feel what way?”

Goro clenches his fist and finally locks gazes with Ren. “Like I’m meeting someone new.”

 

—

 

_He was quiet, awkward, even when surrounded by friends. But when he talked, Goro felt full, and... satisfied. It was the same kind of feeling one got after eating a large dinner followed by dessert. Their conversations were always engaging, and so were the pauses in between them. It was the type of pause where one could be content simply being in each other’s presences._

 

_—_

 

“Oh,” Goro says, “the rain stopped.”

Through the glazed windows, a clear, night sky sleeps in peace. Lights flicker off behind pale screens and even the candles burning in Ren’s living room are waning, filling the room with dim light.

Goro thus stands and collects his suitcase, placing his still full glass on the coffee table in front of him. “I should be going. I hope I wasn’t a bother, or anything…”

“Are you kidding me?” Ren, too, stands. “I should be the one saying that.”

The two stand face-to-face, speechless, trying to find something to say.

“Can I have your number?” Ren asks. When Goro knits his brow in confusion, Ren elucidates, sheepishly, “I mean, just in case.”

In case of what? In case of anything. In case. What an interesting phrase that is. But Goro stops before his thoughts can go haywire, instead taking Ren’s phone and inputting his number into it. Ren does the same to Goro’s phone, and they exchange.

“Shall I call you tonight?” Goro asks. He pauses. “I mean, to verify that this is your real number. Just… in case.” Just in case.

Ren, snorting laughter, nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, go for it.” With that, Goro waves and heads out the door. “Oh, and,” Ren stops him, briefly, “wish me a happy Valentine’s Day when you do.”

“... Right. Of course.” Goro flashes one last smile before leaving.

Ren is watching him through the window when he exits the building. A dim yellow glow frames his silhouette where he lights a cigarette and starts to smoke.

 

—

 

“There,” Ryuji hissed. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

Mishima scrambled to his feet and squinted through the misty window of the van, confirming it with just one glimpse of unruly light brown hair. “Yeah. It’s party time.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Haru was at the apartment building when Goro arrived, tending to some plants in the lobby. She waved at him and said cheerily, “Good evening, Akechi-kun.”

Goro waved halfheartedly back. “Haru. How was your day?”

“Eh, not _much_ … I spent most of the day tending to these plants! How pitiful is that?” Her smile was sheepish, but without an ounce of shame behind it. She admitted, “Well, they would be so lonely without me. I couldn’t neglect them. I suspect I’ll be with them on Valentine’s Day, too.” Smile widening, she set down her watering can to face Goro. “At least you have Ren-kun, hm?”

Inevitably, Goro’s heart sank. “Yes.”

Haru stared at him with big brown eyes. “Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”

If Goro’s heart could’ve sank any deeper, he would’ve been digesting it already. “No.”

“Well,” Haru said, lifting up her watering can, “you would do well to plan something soon. All romances need a proper watering now and then— or they rot.” To demonstrate, Haru proceeded to water a vase of red camellias. “You wouldn’t want to end up eating my father’s fast food for Valentine’s Day. Big Bang Burger serves only pathetic and weak-willed lovers, heehee!”

Goro pretended to laugh along with Haru, but made it clear he was on his way up the stairs, hopefully deterring any further conversation. “Yes, of course,” he said, inching further along the steps, “I’ll think about it...”

“Serving broken hearts with a side of fries!” Haru chirped, as Goro slunk even further.

“I’m going to bed, Haru.”

Alarmed, Haru checked the clock. “It’s only eight, Akechi-kun.”

But Goro was up the stairs in a hurry.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and, after placing the key in the corner of the doorframe, slammed it behind him. Sweat poured down his face and his back. He quickly strode to his bedroom and undressed, slipping into a pair of silk pajamas and hoping to relax, but his heart was pounding, thundering in his ears, preventing him from hearing his own panicked thoughts above it.

Promptly, Goro grabbed the package on his nightstand and tore it open. He pulled out the vial and dumped the pill into his hand. His eyes scanned the code imprinted on it briefly before he dropped the pill onto his tongue and washed it down with the glass of day-old water sitting on the nightstand.

Goro stood still and waited. The soporific effects were slowly, subtly worming their way into him. He walked towards the window and peered through the curtains at the van parked outside his building, but decided it was no use scrutinizing them. It was all going to be over soon.

As Goro’s eyelids began to felt heavy, panic seized his heart. He fumbled for his cell phone and dialed in a number clumsily, helplessly, almost dropping it. But he held it as tightly as his clammy palms could and listened in dread for the voice he knew was coming: “The number you called is no longer in service. Please check your number and—”

“Goodbye,” Goro whispered, as he wept.

The room was churning now, as if he were standing on a slowly spinning vinyl record. The features of his bedroom began to look nondescript. He heard the turning of a key in a keyhole but was impervious to it, as he felt his body shutting down, and the voices of protest in his head fade to silence.

It was all going to be over soon.

 

—

 

“How the thought of you,” Mishima sang, “does things to me…”

“Shhh, shut it, Mishima! We have a job to do.”

“Right, right.” In quieter volume: “Never before has someone been more…—”

 

—

 

_“Good evening, Akechi-kun.” Goro studies the water. Clear, cold droplets trickling into soil._

_“Haru,” he replied. “How was your day?”_

_Haru’s hair is orange.“Eh, not much… I spent most of the holiday tending to these plants! How pitiful is that?” Her eyes. What color are they? “Well, they would be so lonely without me. I couldn’t neglect them. I suspect I’ll be with them on Valentine’s Day, too. At least you have Ren-kun, hm?”_

_The red camellias in the pot disappear.“Yes,” Goro answered._

_“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow, Akechi-kun?”_

Drip. Drip. Drip. _The water is next to disappear. “No.”_

_“Well, you would do well to plan something soon. All romances need a proper watering now and then— or they—”_

_A shadow, where Haru is standing._

 

_—_

 

“Just what kind of bullshit prank is he playing on me!? Does he think it’s funny to mess with me like that? Did he think that I would fall for it? He should just tell me it’s over and be done with it!”

Futaba and Yusuke gawked at him, obviously nonplussed, watching him pace back and forth with the small red box clutched in his hands. “Well, tell us about it,” Futaba said.

Now Goro had to force his body to calm down. That didn’t stop the tears from gushing from his eyes, or his face from scrunching up as he tried to hold those tears back. “— I— I don’t know…”

 

—

 

“I wanted to make things right. I had only intended to mend the mistakes of yesterday, so…

“I called him.”

_Goro dialed in the number. He took in a deep breath, steeling himself for a tirade._

“But, strangely, Ren didn’t pick up. In fact, he—…”

_“The number you called is no longer in service. Please check your number and—”_

_Goro flared up in anger. Indignant, he threw his phone onto his bed and screamed._

“Valentine’s Day was in a few days. I thought about buying him a gift. I know he likes jewelry, so I went to an antique store to buy him these expensive diamond earrings. I don’t know why I…”

_He put the earrings in a tiny red box. Then he tucked in a card. It read: “I’m sorry, Ren. I love you. Let’s talk about this. -Goro.” Closing the box, he tied it up with a black silk ribbon, and with this he muttered a prayer into his fist— praying for the best, longing for the happy ending he sought continually._

_By the time he arrived at Leblanc, his hands were already sweating behind his gloves. He wondered why he felt so terrified to confront his own boyfriend. Perhaps it felt like an ending._ (An end of what?) _He didn’t know. Swallowing down his pride and his fear, he pushed the door open. He was hit immediately with the sharp scent of coffee and curry._

_The look Sojiro gave him, then, he would never forget._

_Goro shuffled inside. It seemed as if he was not welcome here; Ren certainly hadn’t spared him a single glance upon his entrance, instead scrubbing down the counter relentlessly. Goro cast his gaze down. Unsure of how else to broach the subject, he mumbled,“Ren, what happened to your number?”_

“And then he just—”

_Ren squinted at him quizzically. “Welcome to Leblanc. How may I help you?”_

_Goro was so stunned by the boy’s unflinching professionalism that he didn’t say anything at all. He stood there, dumbstruck. At the same time another boy entered, humming some tune._ (A tune? Did he recognize that song from somewhere?)

“He’s there with— with some other guy!”

_“Hey!” Ren exclaimed suddenly. He threw his arms around the newcomer with twinkling eyes, gushing, “Awwww. You came to visit me at work! How sweet are you?”_

_“How’s my teddy bear doing today?” The two kissed. Goro looked on in horror._

_The boy soon turned towards Goro, his blue hair painful to Goro’s eye._

_His face, however, is vague and undefined._

“It was like… he didn’t even know me.”

_Ren kept kissing the boy on the cheek. Then he, too, turned to Goro, saying, “I’ll be with you in a minute, sir. Go ahead and take a seat, make yourself comfortable.”_

 

_—_

 

Why would he do that to him?

 

—

 

“Well, er, think of it this way, Goro,” Futaba said. “Think of this as a sign that you need to start anew. Leave it all behind and start living your life again—”

But Goro couldn’t hear her over the buzzing in his brain. “I should go visit his apartment. Perhaps then, there’ll be less distraction, I can…”

“No!” Futaba yelled.

Yusuke massaged the bridge of his nose. “Futaba…”

“I-I mean, you’ll just look desperate, Goro! Nobody likes a desperate guy. Ren’s _clearly_ moved on, so why shouldn’t _you—_ ”

“Futaba,” Yusuke rumbled, “we can’t. We have to.”

But Futaba had a pleading look in her eyes, as she said, “No, no, don’t you fucking dare, Yusuke, for God’s sake…!” But when Yusuke offered no concession in his uncompromising eyes, Futaba groaned, chucking a Yoshi plushie at him. “What is it with you, huh!? Can’t you tell a fucking lie, for once!”

“Goro is an adult, Futaba,” argued Yusuke, “he deserves the truth!”

“Truth?” Dread bore down on Goro’s shoulders as he stopped pacing. “What truth?”

Both Yusuke and Futaba were slack-jawed. Futaba, screeching angrily, marched away and up the stairs, while Yusuke rolled his eyes and muttered, “Ah, here we go again with the silent treatment…”

“... Yusuke?” Goro said.

Yusuke quietly rifled through the drawer at his side. Extracting his hand, he leaned it limply to the side; nestled in between his fingers was a yellow envelope. Yusuke said nothing— simply sighing and rocking his hand. Goro narrowed his eyes warily before taking the envelope and unfolding its contents.

He ended up pulling a small white card out. Printed on it were these words:

 

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kitagawa,

 **Amamiya Ren** has had **Akechi Goro** erased from his memory.

Please never mention their relationship to him again. Thank you.

 

LACUNA, LTD.

4-24 SANGENJAYA, SETAGAYA-KYU

TOKYO, JAPAN

 

_The first name in bold fades away, leaving behind an empty space._

“... What the fuck is this?” The card trembled in Goro’s grip. When answered by silence, Goro tossed the envelope back on Yusuke’s lap, screaming, “Tell me!”

“I cannot be too sure,” Yusuke murmured. “But I believe they’re some… some company that performs some procedure that— that… does something.” He fingered the envelope. “... To your mind.”

 

—

 

The blonde-haired woman at the receptionist desk busily talked to her customers on the phone in a sweet, soothing voice. The packed lobby, filled with other waiting customers, was just as busy. The printer in the corner regularly generated the same notice cards Goro had seen in the Kitagawa’s home: “___ has had ___ erased from their memory…” so on forth.

Dear God. There were so many of them.

By the time the receptionist had ended her calls, Goro was a disoriented wreck, and he could barely look at her without feeling the urge to faint.

“Thank you for your patience,” she said, “how may I help you?”

Goro checked the name tag on her lab coat. Takamaki Ann.

“I have an appointment,” Goro announced. His heart fluttered. “With… Dr. Nijima.”

A pause. Ann’s polished fingernails clicked against the keyboard.  “Can I have a name?”

“Akechi Goro. For nine-thirty.”

A longer pause, and a smack of bubblegum. Then, a grin. “OK. You’re all checked in.” Ann’s grin was brimming with energy. “Have a seat.”

Lowering himself awkwardly amongst the other clients, Goro surveyed the waiting room and began to pick it apart, as he was inclined to do as a detective. Tacky magazines were stacked on a nearby table; the wall screamed motivational words and catchy business slogans on its many glossy posters. The choice of painting, surrealist, betrayed something about the company’s intent. Other than that, this place pretty much resembled a hospital.

He almost felt like a patient awaiting news of a bleak prognosis, an unavoidable disease eating him up from the inside. Impending doom. The old man sitting next to him and the woman sitting across from them both expressed similar sentiments on their forlorn faces. Another man, clutching an opaque garbage bag in his glistening fist, shook and wept silently into his scarf; this man, on the other hand, seemed more like the family member whose wife or child had died in a grisly accident, and he was only anticipating news of their death. His expression chilled Goro the most, and Goro turned away, ashamed.

A few minutes later, an, “Akechi Goro-san?” rang out from the hall, and Goro shot up from his seat to see Ann beckoning him over. He hurried along. The hallway, dim and narrow, seemed to close in on Goro the deeper he followed Ann into it.

They arrived at the door of Dr. Nijima’s office. Another worker in a lab coat with blonde hair had just exited, and upon passing by Ann he squeezed her in the buttocks. Ann, leaping up indignantly, squeaked, “Ryuji! Not in front of the client!”

“What?” This Ryuji, peering at Goro, thinned his lips in judgement. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“No worries,” Goro said, though frankly he was appalled.

Ryuji muttered something to Ann, then went on his way.

Ann sighed. She smoothed down her coat and even tidied her hair before opening the office door. “Makoto-chan,” she said, in a sweeter voice than before, “Akechi Goro-san is here to speak with you.”

She sidestepped to allow Goro passage. Revealed to him was a woman with dark hair and cool red eyes, which surprised him, as he initially expected to see a middle-aged man seated there. “Akechi-san,” Dr. Nijima called. “Come on in.”

Goro bowed. He sucked in his gut, strode inside, and let the confusion hit him again.

 

—

 

_“Didn’t mean for you to see that.”_

Didn’t—

Didn’t.

(Did not.)

_“I—”_

 

_—_

 

“I am very sorry that you had to see this,” Dr. Nijima said. She slid the envelope back to Goro and massaged her forehead in apparent distress. “The… subjects of erasure aren’t supposed to know that they’ve been erased. They must be protected from the pain of this truth, and…”

“But this can't be true,” Goro interrupted. “Can’t be— possible.”

“It is,” Ann said without a hint of doubt in her voice. “Makoto-chan is a genius. She created this technology and it has been proven to always work— complete erasure, every time!”

“Yes…” Blushing faintly, Dr. Nijima chuckled. “It’s unfortunate, Akechi-san, but you surely have been erased from the memories of Amamiya-san for good.”

—

 

_“Amamiya-san came to us a clearly burdened individual. He said he could not even bear…”—_

_—_ “... the thought of me.” Goro’s fists clenched so tightly that they sweated and trembled. “I do not understand. How _could_ he!? I was one of the only ones who saw him for who he truly was. I love him as best as I can, and he… he goes to this— this Lacuna place to _erase_ me!? I can’t believe he’d erase me!”

All breathless now from his rant, Goro collapsed onto a chair and sobbed into his palms. He felt Futaba’s hands compassionately rubbing his back though it did little to actually ease him. “Well… you know Ren,” she laughed, weakly. “He’s secretive. And he’s especially a dramatic. Always pretending to seem one way when he’s really a million different things going on at once. And that builds up, you know, and it breaks, and next thing you know, he decides to erase you—”

The next sob Goro made sounded almost like a shriek, and in a frustrated panic Futaba turned towards her husband and exclaimed, “Yusuke, say something, damn you!”

“I’m working on a painting,” Yusuke said lamely, though this only irritated Futaba more.

“Ren erased me for no reason,” Goro blubbered in the meantime. Hearing this, Futaba sighed.

“Akechi, listen.” She wrapped her arms around Goro’s shuddering frame as if to steady him. “I mean, erasing someone is no small thing. If Ren chose to, he erased you for…”—

— _“... a significant reason. He made a big, and perhaps foolish decision when he came to us.”_

_Goro sank in his seat. Dr. Nijima studied him carefully, squinting at him through her lenses._

_“You must understand, Akechi-san. The mind is a fragile thing. It’s like a wagon, rolling on through time, picking up more baggage as it goes. To remove some of the burdens would allow the mind to roll quickly, freely, more efficiently than before. Some people weigh their options and ultimately decide they’d rather remove that weight no matter what sentimental value was attached to it._

_“Amamiya-san... was one of them.”_

 

_—_

 

_“Well then I’ll just—”_

_Crumbling walls. Crumbling sky. It’s all crumbling._

_“— Leave!”_

_Dust to dust to dust._

 

_—_

 

“Makoto-chan, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him—”

Dr. Nijima jolted up. Her jaw fell, her hands absently smoothing her tie as they burst in. “Akechi-san,” she breathed. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“I’m sorry,” Ann panted, running in, “I tried telling him the office closes in an hour and that this is the most busiest time of year but he— he insisted—!”

“No, no,” Dr. Nijima said. “Let’s listen. We cannot blame him. He’s in a bad position and we are partly to blame.” She squared her shoulders. “Well, Akechi-san? How may we help you?”

Goro, stepping up to the front desk, tried in vain to catch his breath. Tears burned on his eyes as he tried to articulate the words he felt on the tip of his tongue. He closed his mouth— opened it—

“... I want Ren erased,” he whispered. “Please.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> my twitter is @teaccake but i don’t post a lot of p5 :0


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